We Match
by Keywi
Summary: Brittany had thought she knew everything about Santana. Brittana oneshot.


_**We Match**_

**Summary: **Brittany had thought she knew everything about Santana. Brittana oneshot.

**Author's Note: **Takes place in season two some time after _Prom Queen_ but before _New York _and is a personal headcanon of mine_. _I've never taken the SATs before so if there are any inaccuracies, I apologize. I got most of my information from _Saved by the Bell_ and _Boy Meets World_.

* * *

><p>Brittany hated silent car rides. Silence in a car was foreign to her. Whenever she drove with her family, there was always endless chatter and banter among them. Her mother and father would tease each other and she and her younger sister would bicker; there was never a quiet moment. When she drove with Santana, her friend always had the radio on or her iPod playing and the two of them would sing along to the music and try to out-dork each other.<p>

But this morning, the car ride was silent, silent as the grave. _Perhaps that's too grim of a comparison_, thought Brittany. The blonde fixed her blue gaze on Santana. The brunette in the driver's seat stared out at the road, her dark eyes tense and clouded with anxiety like the overcast sky.

Silent car rides always meant something was wrong or something bad or scary was about to happen. Brittany fidgeted in her seat. The silence was unbearable, unnatural.

"Are you nervous?" the blonde asked her companion.

There was a pause. Brittany waited patiently while the other girl stopped at a red light.

"Yeah," Santana replied. "Are you?" she questioned tentatively.

Brittany nodded. "Yeah, kind of."

The brunette beside her glanced over at her, her chocolate eyes softening. Santana then dropped a hand from the steering wheel, letting it linger over the center console.

Brittany studied her friend's face, finding unspoken fear there. She knew the brunette was still struggling to accept herself and embrace her feelings. It reminded the blonde of her cat whenever he encountered something unknown. How his head would bobble up and down as he cautiously approached, sometimes giving the unfamiliar an experimental swat of his paw. The way she hesitated to take Brittany's hand even in private or the way she seemed unsure if it was acceptable for her to lay her head on Brittany's shoulder while watching television together spoke silent volumes of that fear.

Sometimes, Brittany longed for sophomore year, it was so easy then. There was no hesitation behind those affectionate interactions between them. They just happened, no thoughts required. But, now there were expressed feelings behind those same actions and touches from sophomore year, unlike before. And when she finally felt Santana's head on her shoulder, Brittany knew she had been right: with feelings it's better.

After a few heartbeats, Santana's inner battle must have reached a victor because her hand landed on top of Brittany's, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"You'll do fine, Britt," encouraged the other girl. "That's what that stupid prep course we took was for."

"It was hardly stupid," Brittany commented. "I mean, we both had trouble with some of the stuff, remember?"

Santana chuckled at that, filling up some of that overwhelming quiet and it made Brittany feel much lighter as the car started moving again toward their school.

That class was difficult. Brittany didn't know there was so much that could be covered in a single test—or even how important a single test could be in deciding a person's future. She and Santana had had numerous study dates preparing for the test, reading over the fat textbook the prep course required or quizzing each other with the sample questions.

It surprised her the first time when their study session didn't end with them furiously exchanging sweet lady kisses. Even after she broke up with Artie and when Santana dropped Karofsky, their studying never ended with them being naked. Her brain was usually too tired to even think about sex.

But it was also the first time a class had actually held Brittany's attention. That was an achievement in itself, the blonde admitted inwardly. She had never been an attentive student; her mind wandered too much to pay attention to lectures. English was hard too: too many rules and exceptions to rules and so many prefixes that it made her confused with which word was which. Math was her best subject. It was concrete and the rules always stayed the same.

"You'll totally own the math portion," Santana stated as if Brittany had already aced it.

That's why she focused so hard: for Santana. It was important to her best friend. She had insisted that they should get good scores so they could get into a good school. Santana had never mentioned it, but Brittany knew that her friend wanted to get as far away from Lima as possible, geographically and mentally.

"The better the score, the better the school," Santana had said to her when they signed up for the course.

"Thanks, San." Brittany squeezed Santana's hand back.

The rest of the drive to school was silent, but it didn't feel quite as oppressive as it did in the beginning.

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><p>Brittany tried to listen to the instructor as he droned on about how the test worked, she really did. But it seemed so pointless, it was just another test. Only it was taken on a Saturday. And it required so much preparation. And it covered a lot.<p>

Suddenly she wished she were at home watching cartoons with her sister.

She glimpsed Santana sitting next to her, bouncing her foot and tapping her pencil against their table. The brunette always had a hard time sitting still when she was nervous. That or she fiddled with her hands. Nervous energy Brittany guessed, recalling something in biology about fight or flight.

The tests were then passed out and everyone got to work. Brittany stuck out her tongue somewhat as she carefully filled in her name, making sure to spell it correctly. There was no way she would let herself get docked points for misspelling her own name like the characters in so many of the comedies she and Santana watched.

She cast a quick glance over to her friend. Santana's face was already scrunched up the way it does, making her eyes get all squinty, whenever she got confused about something.

"My middle name is Susan, right?" Brittany whispered. It's not like she didn't know her own middle name, but she figured Santana would appreciate a question that she could answer.

Santana's face relaxed as she stole a glance at the blonde. "What?" she murmured, "Yeah, that's right, B."

Brittany nodded her thanks and her friend returned to her own work, her face less scrunched now as she jotted down her answers. Brittany's blue eyes ran over where the brunette had signed her name before she started her own test.

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><p>Roughly four hours later, and two Tylenol and one Advil later, the two girls exited the school. Brittany stretched her legs, cramping from being still for so long. The late spring breeze, warm and gentle, blew her blonde hair behind her like a cape and the sun had broken out of the clouds, warming her muscles. Santana sidled up next to her as she stood taking in the afternoon.<p>

"I'm so glad that part is over," said Santana, rubbing her neck.

"The SATs are so long!" whined Brittany. "I'm pretty sure my brain looks like a fried egg right now."

The brunette laughed, "Then I suppose we should get you home."

Brittany followed her friend to the car, sliding into the passenger seat with a tired groan. Despite the comfortable May temperature, the blonde relaxed into the warmth of the car seat. As Santana put the key in the ignition and started the engine, Brittany recalled what she saw scrawled on her companion's test paper.

"Hey, Tana?" started Brittany, "What does _J_ stand for?"

The brunette paused, staring at her with that scrunched expression. "What are you talking about, Britt?"

"Where it asked you for your first and last name and middle initial," the blonde clarified. "You put down _J _as your middle initial. What does the _J_ stand for?"

Santana was silent for a moment, her brown eyes looking down at her hands like she does when she's embarrassed. Maybe she was embarrassed that she had never told Brittany her middle name in all the years they had known each other.

"Jennifer," answered Santana. "It stands for Jennifer."

"Santana Jennifer Lopez?" Brittany said it aloud, tasting the name as it rolled off her tongue.

The brunette nodded, "Yeah." She fiddled with her hands.

Brittany thought for a minute, repeating her friend's full name softly a few more times.

"We match," she concluded.

Santana's brown eyes got all squinty again. "What?"

"Our names; we match."

"I don't get it."

Brittany smiled at Santana. "You see, my name is Brittany S. Pierce and yours is Santana Jennifer Lopez."

The other girl tilted her head. "So?"

Brittany laughed lightly and rolled her eyes, amused by how Santana couldn't see it.

"My name sounds like Britney Spears and your name's Jennifer Lopez. We're both named after celebrities," the blonde explained, grinning.

Slowly, a smile spread across Santana's face and Brittany reveled in how the brunette's eyes lit up when she understood. "Oh my God," muttered her friend, chuckling slightly. "You're right."

"See?" Brittany giggled, "We totally go together—even our names match."

Santana's laughter died when Brittany's words hit her ears. The blonde watched as the brunette's smile faltered and her breath snagged in her throat. Santana looked questioningly at her, and Brittany nodded, knowing Santana was asking if she truly meant what she had said.

Santana's smile returned, more loving and tender this time. "We totally match."

The brunette then gently pulled out of the school parking lot and onto the road toward Brittany's house. The two shared a warm glance as the familiar scenery blurred past them. And then, smiling, Santana reached her hand over the center console and grabbed Brittany's hand without any hesitation before flicking on the radio.


End file.
